


Bringing Cas Home

by mansikka



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel in the Bunker, Fluff and Smut, Human Castiel, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-18 02:29:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5894575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mansikka/pseuds/mansikka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four short looks at things that might happen should Cas move into the bunker.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A fresh start

Dean paced the bunker impatiently, idly straightening things that did not need to be straightened, and double and triple checking the ingredients in the fridge to reassure him that he had everything he needed for dinner.

He stood outside the room he'd made up for Cas, turning the handle and wondering if it was the last time he'd be able to go in there uninvited. The room was underwhelming, as both his and Sam's had first been; a blank canvas, he liked to think. He hoped it would soon be full of Cas things, wondering not for the first time if Cas would be a clutterer or a minimalist in his own space.

Dean brushed his hand along the newly purchased bedding, feeling its softness under his fingertips. He'd chosen simple colours that he thought Cas would appreciate, selecting a simple bedside lamp and alarm clock as well as a thick pile rug that he'd thought about Cas sinking his toes into more than once.

At the foot of the bed was a large toiletries bag full of things Dean had spent far too long choosing, imagining the smell of each of them on Cas’ skin. It rested on a pile of thick cream towels and a pair of slipper socks covered with bees that he'd found by accident but hadn't been able to resist. Then teased himself about for hours, long before Sam had seen them and joined in.

A single photo frame with a picture of the three of them was the only decoration to be found in the room. There were no clothes; that was where Cas was now, shopping for his first full wardrobe with Sam. Dean had not trusted himself, or his imagination, to go with Cas himself.

Dean turned in an arc and surveyed the room critically with a sigh. It wasn't much, and nowhere near all of the things he wanted to give Cas, but at least he was finally coming home.

Dean didn't think he would ever forgive himself for making Cas leave. Even if he himself had already done so, showing that effortless understanding Cas always seemed to have. All Dean could do was recite to himself all of the things he intended to do to make Cas feel right at home, right away.

Which included, amongst other things, keeping a firm lid on those lusty little thoughts he'd long given up on denying he had about Cas, and all sorts of urges that made him dial that perfect water pressure down to icy cold.

He would go out of his way to make Cas feel welcome, and supported, and home, whatever it took.

Between Dean and Sam, they'd made a decent home of the bunker, salvaging mismatched furniture and leaving their small accumulation of personal belongings laying around. Dean hoped it would take no time at all for Cas to be doing the same.

Glancing at his watch for the hundredth time, Dean groaned to himself and headed for the kitchen. He could prepare the ingredients for dinner to distract himself, hoping it would kill some much needed time. There was comfort in chopping onions for the burgers and carving wedges of potatoes to dip in seasoning later. He even grated a large quantity of cheese; Cas still had a thing for cheeseburgers, and Dean was adamant that he would give him this small gift of house-warming if he could offer nothing else.

With everything as prepared as he could get it without actually starting cooking, he paced back to the bunker entrance and waited, watching the door as though he could will their return even quicker.

Footfall eventually reached his ears along with muffled voices, and his heart hammered out in response. Taking one deep, steadying breath he shuffled, having been stood for so long. He crossed his arms then let them fall to his sides, fingers twitching in apprehension.

The door leading up from the garage swung outwards heavily, and that sound was accompanied by the rustling of many bags. Dean looked up sharply from them to Cas' face, giving a hesitant smile. Cas came to a stop in front of him, and beamed back a smile in reply.

All the words Dean had wanted to say caught in his throat and stayed there, thickly lodged.

Cas' smile did not falter.

"I believe I have forgotten the layout of this bunker," he said musingly, generously giving Dean a chance to do something.

Dean stepped forward, a tiny step bringing him within breathing distance of Cas. He clapped a firm hand on Cas’ shoulder, and, taking the bags out of his hands, turned to glance at Sam who shrugged and followed as they started to walk. "C'mon. I'll give you the grand tour."

  
  
  



	2. Settling in

Cas in his own home was a sight to behold. He was confident where in the outside world he was sometimes lost. He was effortless where he often appeared awkward elsewhere. Dean drank in this Cas-at-home like he was both an elixir and a thirst he could never quite quench.

Cas hummed doing chores, danced through the kitchen and sang in the shower, leaving Dean open-mouthed and Sam teasing him for it relentlessly. Sam's knowing smirks in Dean’s direction fixed an almost-permanent blush to Dean's face, but he was helpless to do anything different or deny any of it.

Where Dean favoured a robe, Cas walked between the shower and his room in only a towel secured around his hips, Dean unable to concentrate on anything he was doing until Cas was completely out of view. If Cas stretched to reach for something, Dean's eyes flew to his exposed skin and narrowed in concentration. And if Cas bent down, Dean became so fixated on his ass that Sam often slapped him out of his idle fantasizing and fixed him with a look that said  _ get your mind out of the gutter. _

It didn't help that home-Cas was somehow even more comfortable around Dean than out-in-public-Cas. He leaned, his fingers lingered and brushed against Dean often, and movie nights found his head falling slowly, slowly, slowly down onto Dean’s shoulder or into the crook of his neck.

Dean didn't object though. Not to any of it.

When they'd found themselves alone one night, Cas had been transfixed by a love scene in a show they were watching. His eyes flicked between the screen and Dean's face several times in consideration, before he turned and rested a hand on his arm, searching Dean's expression.

"I want to do that with you," Cas said firmly, and the moment Dean opened his mouth - not to object, but in surprise - Cas was on him, kissing him like it was something they'd done a hundred times before. Dean took about one second to catch up before kissing him back enthusiastically, wrapping his arms around Cas tightly and pulling him close.

It could be said that Cas had settled in easily to living with Sam and Dean, but what need was there to settle into a place where you already belonged?

  
  
  



	3. Games

Cas insisted on being the banker when the three of them played Monopoly. He preferred Scrabble to Yahtzee, was terrible at poker, and once viciously swiped the frame of Battleship clattering onto the floor after accusing Dean of cheating.

Sam and Cas were equally matched at chess, and Cas' clues at charades were so entertaining that Sam was often in tears, whilst Dean frequently kissed away the look of confusion Cas gave when Sam was writhing in hysterics.

They'd set up a basketball hoop, hit golf balls off of the roof of the bunker, and one time had even played a rather intense game of hide and seek in the surrounding grounds.

Cas and Dean had their own, very private game that they liked to play. It was the kind of game that only two people who had amassed such unresolved sexual tension between them over the years that by all accounts they could power a death star could play, and play, and never tire of. Not that they never tired. They were very, very thorough game players after all.

The game had many missions to complete, as well as side quests to incorporate, and Easter eggs to discover. There was ' _ how many rooms can we have sex in today?  _ ', and ' _ having incredibly quiet sex whilst Sam is in the adjacent shower block/library/just barely out of hearing distance  _ ', and '  _ this position looks impossible to do here but let's try it anyway  _ '.

Dean's personal favourite was seeing how many whimpers and moans he could get out of Cas whilst fucking him very, very slowly. Dean also enjoyed taking Cas from behind in front of a mirror, able to look at every inch of Cas as he thrusted into him whilst stroking him at the same time.

Cas found great pleasure in stringing out a handjob, or sucking Dean off, right to the point where Dean would be a writhing mess beneath him, before fucking him senseless and watching as Dean came untouched. In fact, Cas was surprisingly wicked, and creative, when it came to making Dean wait, and want, and whine.

Cas liked to tease Dean to the point of begging, building him up over the course of a day. He'd start with a slow, dirty kiss against a kitchen surface following breakfast, sucking Dean's tongue into his mouth before chasing it back with a trembling moan. He'd push up Dean's shirt and lick and suck on a nipple before wandering away as though he had something else he needed to be doing right at that moment. His fingers would stroke along the line of Dean's cock through his jeans, sometimes dipping his hand inside. And then he’d grin, and turn on his heel.

If he was in a particularly teasing mood, he'd strip Dean and kneel him on the bed, then lick open his hole until Dean whimpered. He'd wait until Dean started grinding back against him and then he'd stand, saying he wanted a beer or something, and leave the room.

Sometimes he'd lube up his fingers then pull Dean down onto them so he could work himself wide, gasping and gulping as Cas crooked his fingers against his prostrate and his free hand gripped Dean's wrists so he couldn't touch himself. He’d refuse to move in any other way, and would remain fully clothed, looking at Dean hungrily knowing he had utter control.

Cas would always know the point when Dean couldn't handle any more teasing though, and at that point he'd slide himself inside Dean in one go, knowing he was well and truly ready for him. The ferocity with which he took Dean on those days left bruises and a lasting, sated grin on Dean's face that drained all the colour from Sam when Dean and Cas eventually left the bedroom much, much later.

Yes, Dean thought one morning, steadily lowering himself onto Cas, who glanced greedily down to where their bodies joined and he disappeared into him, Cas had brought all sorts of entertainment to the bunker since he'd moved in.

  
  
  



	4. Moving

Strange, Dean thought, running a finger along an empty shelf in Cas’ room and looking at the dust gathered there. Strange, that even down here in the bunker, in an undisturbed space, dust could gather when left unattended.

Dean took one full turn of the room to check he'd picked up any stray things of Cas', then closed the door with one hand as his other clasped a box against his chest.

He walked across the hall, down a couple of doors, and into another room, dumping the box on the bed.

Cas looked up from the book in his lap and stood, stretching, before leaning over to rummage through the last of his belongings. There wasn't much, since most of his things had long been in Dean's room.  _ Their  _ room, he corrected himself with a glowing smile.

He folded a sweater into a drawer, shoved a few odds and ends into another, and slipped a couple of books onto a shelf beside their joint collection.

He turned the box over, making sure there was nothing remaining, then folded it flat for recycling, hearing Sam's lecture even though he wasn't there in the room with them.

Dean had silently watched all of this transpire whilst his chest swelled with happiness at Cas officially moving into their room. The thing about Cas was that he fit. He fit into their lives, their home, and their hearts as though he had always belonged there. And no, it hadn't been without difficulty at times, because of course, nothing in this life is ever completely without complication. But ultimately it was all good, and all encompassing, and all Dean wanted.

Sam had made many comments about Dean making an honest man of Cas, but Cas had put a stop to that once and for all one day by returning from a solo shopping expedition and without the slightest of hesitation wedging a ring on to Dean's finger. He held up his own hand to show his matching one and grinned, leaning forward to kiss him and then handing Dean a six pack of his favourite beer.

Dean had asked him if he wanted an official ceremony or celebration and Cas had just shrugged, “It is unnecessary.”

And that had been that.

So maybe this wasn't quite an apple pie life. Living in a bunker by day and hunting bad things by night, never quite sure when the next blackness would descend or even how they’d all get through it intact. But in the meantime, they lived, and they loved, and they had something of the happiness that they truly deserved.

Cas, and Dean, and Sam, had each other, and in each other they had a home; all the home they would ever need.

  
  
  



End file.
